Concerto for Two Worlds
by CyberForte
Summary: Kirei lifted a brow, then smiled again, as though having divined some secret; "...I shall register you, then, regardless; it appears we will not have a Caster in this war." And so the war started, the cast of Servants reconsidered by Fate's dice.


Concerto for Two Worlds No. 2, Op. 19

-To be performed by an Emperor, his Witch, and their Fox-

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~Disclaimer~

This is a work of fanfiction containing characters and situations that are copyright to their assorted owners, and, being strictly a work of non-profit fiction, it is not intended to infringe upon those copyrights. All characters, concepts, situations, etc are copyright to their respective owners. However, any content, including but not limited to characters, situations, concepts, and portrayals, not thus-copyrighted is copyright to the author of this work and may not be replicated without his explicit permission.

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The chase had come to and end, and his existence seemed about to do the same. It was sad, really, and a bit pathetic--he wanted to be a hero, but he couldn't even save himself from dying a pointless death, here in the shed that was his workshop. His limited, weak magic had bought him time, but now the demonic man in blue stood before him, lance pointed at the boy's chest. There was mirth in his eyes, enjoyment, but also murderous intent. As fun as the hunt had been, this was obviously the end of it, and a few admiring words in the confident voice came forth, now that there was no need to rush. "You did pretty well for a kid, but... this time, it's--"

He was cut off, though, even as the red-haired teenager's thoughts were upon his lost ideal. With green eyes closed, he didn't see the flash that'd interrupted his executioner, the one coming from the circle behind him on the floor. He did, however, feel the tension return to the atmosphere, and there was a gasp of surprise as an unknown, powerfully resonant voice spoke; "You do not wish things to end here, do you?"

The young man, Shirou Emiya, opened his eyes at this point, looking toward the source of the voice; in the darkness, it was hard to make out the form, but he saw a black gloved hand extended toward him and a piercing violet eye--only one, strangely--gleaming from the darkness. To the boy's side, the lance-armed demon was suddenly all business, and he dashed at the newcomer dangerously... only to have his blood red spear point stopped dead by some sort of magic, a set of purple hexagons in the air. The eye seemed unperturbed, continuing as Shirou gave a slow nod. "Then, I offer you a contract--accept my services and I shall grant you salvation."Numbly, the shocked male stared at the hand offered, even as the air to his side was filled with even more of the defensive hexagons--the demonic spearman was attacking fiercely. "What the hell's going on here?!" he demanded, handsome, imposing face a mix of anger and curiosity as Shirou continued to stare.

Then, slowly, shakily, he reached up and clasped with it, and a red emblem appeared upon his forearm as he felt the smooth, rubbery glove. "I... I accept!"

Satisfaction made itself known in the eye for a moment, and the voice replied, obviously pleased, "Excellent...." And, with that, the eye and barrier vanished as the atmosphere changed once more, becoming even more electric as the barrier vanished, causing the blue-clothed male to stumble. However, his weapon might've still put an end to Shirou's life for the second time that night if there had not been the clash of steel upon steel as an elaborate sword batted aside the attack and the first sight of the third presence in full was obtained as he stepped into the shining moonlight.

Immediately, why he'd been able to blend into the dark recesses of the workshop was quite apparent, for his attire was dominated by a billowing, encircling black cape with a high collar and gold trim. However, nearly as pronounced was the equally black helmet that covered his head, spherical sans three ridges upon the top and a dark blue, opaque glass faceplate. But now, with his arms gripping that sword--really, decided Shirou, it seemed like an impractical sword, triangular and black entirely, sans the gold trim on the handle, which ended at the two elaborate wings that made the handguard--and spreading the cape, it was apparent that its inside was a more subdued red than his opponent's lance, and the body slim, covered in a lacy, violet, Victorian-styled shirt and jacket beneath it, also trimmed in gold.

He seemed too overdressed to be fighting, and yet the parry had come absurdly fast--almost as fast as the other recovered, jumping backward with a glare as he finally got the answer to his question. In a voice that seemed slightly changed from before, he announced, "I am servant Saber." He stepped forward, imposingly, his sword held at guard; "Your attack upon my master was foolish, but if you surrender yourself now, Lancer, you will be spared."

The blue demon--Lancer, it seemed--sneered at this, giving a harsh laugh. "Ha! Surrender to you? I'd expect Saber to have a decent sword, at least!" And then he charged, unleashing a furious hail of blows. Inside the building, Shirou felt sick--this was like before, except that the cloaked man in black couldn't possibly win.....

Thus, he was shocked at the skill with which the caped man moved, and even more at his speed, his sword quite effectively parrying each hit. Neither of the two could really gain ground in that first exhange, and soon they drew back, sizing each other up in the brilliant illumination of the full moon. The one called Saber seemed like he might've been smirking behind the mask; "You shouldn't make such assumptions, Lancer! This weapon has changed the world, and I can't stand for you insulting it--or forgive you for trying to kill my master!"

With that, he took up the offensive, showing incredible agility as he charged, then jumped over Lancer's parry--or rather, onto it, jumping again in the split second before the weapon was pulled back. Shock registered in the demon's red eyes as Saber's booted foot struck his face, and then the caped male was on the ground behind him, spinning his elaborate sword for a slash at the other's back that was only blocked by a lucky move from the still-surprised spearman, who then spun, glaring.

Facing each other again, though, the two warriors traded blows, seeming to be evenly matched; for all his agility and skill, Saber couldn't get close enough to Lancer to do any damage, but nor could the frighteningly fast demon force the caped swordsman back. Watching this, Shirou managed to pull himself up, standing in the doorway to watch in awe.

However, the two seemed to both grow tired of the clash quickly; after pulling back for the forth time, Saber shook his masked head. "You should leave, Lancer. This fighting is meaningless, and the war is only just started."

The demon, though, smirked at this; "Like hell I'm leaving just yet. I don't know who you are, but this's too good to pass up!" Yet, despite that, he didn't move to attack again. Instead, he fell into a dangerous, predatory crouch, and shifted that blood red spear he'd used to fight with into a throwing position. In the doorway. Shirou gasped, recalling the feeling of dread from before; the frigid power that started to fill the clearing behind his home. There energy in that stance was deadly....

And, seeing Saber calm and unfazed as his cape fluttered around him in the deadly wind, he felt despair run through him. No matter how good Saber was, he would die if the spear struck him. This was certain. "S-saber!" he managed to call out, therefore, voice unsteady, "Don't... Don't let him hit you with that!"

Turning, though, the black-caped figure seemed unimpressed, even as Lancer added with a sneer, "The kid's got sense, but it's a little late!"

However, as he drew back the horrible, frigid weapon, Saber's attention returned to him, and the atmosphere shifted just a bit. In a voice more condescending than the one from before, he answered, "You won't be able to strike me."

Lancer, as though he hadn't heard the taunt, pulled back and the, like a panther pouncing upon his prey, sprang forward, sending the spear at his opponent, surely going to kill him. He didn't seem discouraged at all, in fact, when the purple barrier sprang into existence again in front of the spinning weapon, which struck it... and was deflected, rebounding uselessly. There was a collective gasp from Shirou and Lancer--this was... utterly impossible!

But, it was the latter, by far, who was most affected. His face was one of utter incredulity and shock, the red eyes wide as could be and his mouth working uselessly. If Saber had charged immediately, he probably could've ended the fight, but he seemed to be enjoying the scene of despair before him. Lancer weakly backed away, starting to recover a little but stammering, shaken; "W-what the hell?! Who are you?! W-what heroic spirit could p-possibly survive that so easily?!"

As if he'd been waiting for this cue, Saber took a bow, letting his sword's tip plant itself into the ground as he lifted his cape dramatically, "I am one who stands in defense of those who are powerless, those who have no weapons with which to fight. A knight in the service of justice, no more." Then, he reached for the sword, his posture becoming more aggressive as the Black Knight prepared to charge.

Lancer, his shock turning to anger, glared daggers, dashing at breakneck speeds toward his fallen spear, and then fled; Saber made no move to follow, not even as the escaping warrior yelled out, "You'll die for this, you bastard!"

No, he only replied sadly to himself more than to his foe, "Then... you are prepared to be killed."

-----

For a long moment, the backyard of the Emiya estate was silent. Saber was surveying the area, knowing he had a lot to explain from how surprised his new master was by all this, and Shirou... well, he was staring. The proclamation was the last thing he'd expected from the person who'd so randomly saved him, and, in truth, feelings were warring within him. Both jealousy and admiration were evident right now, though, since he'd not decided quite yet which one to feel, and Saber might've seen this... if they both hadn't been interrupted by an amused, confident voice.

"It looks like our Saber's an idealist. Still, that was pretty good, for such a ham." There was grudging admiration in the flippant words, but it was hidden deep enough to make the black knight stiffen, his sword raised again as he scanned again, this time for the source. He wasn't hard to spot, really, strolling in from the front with such confidence, his blonde hair tending upward in wavy shocks. But, if his words and the power one could feel from him weren't enough to show that he, like the rest of these beings, wasn't human, the piercing, amused red eyes were.

Upon seeing him, even clad in the perfectly white jacket rather than his golden armor from before, Shirou gasped, drawing the arrival's gaze. He snorted with amusement and, before Saber said anything, turned his handsome face to look behind, calling out boredly, "The boy's fine; you worried your pretty little head for nothing. He's even got a servant of his own!" There was a laugh at this, and those red eyes met Saber's visor with contempt. "A Servant without a face," he mocked, even as a girl in red and black emerged cautiously.

She, too, Shirou knew well, and he wasn't surprised to see her. "Tosaka?" he questioned quietly, obviously still confused....

"Emiya," she returned coldly, as an acknowledgement only, reaching up to idly push a strand of black hair out of her face as she took in Shirou and Saber. But, before the two who apparently knew each other could speak again, Saber addressed a question to the thin-faced blonde man, his violet eye showing now through a strange, newly-revealed eye hole in the mask.

"I may be faceless, but you know at least my class. What is yours?"

The blonde smirked, shrugging; "I'm Archer."

Shirou and Saber seemed to agree upon the reply that Saber made, since the former was staring a bit at Archer after this, even as Saber returned, his helmet sealing with a soft hiss, "You don't really look like a bowman."

"I'd be happy to show you my craft and let you know my name, but my master's not quite up for that tonight." He didn't seem bothered by this, elaborating upon it boredly, "But, that's fine. The war would be boring if I got to kill Saber on the very first night."

The masked, caped man tensed here, insulted, but said nothing as the two sets of servant and master faced off in a electric silence. Only Archer seemed unaffected by it, looking disinterested, and it was the girl called Tosaka who finally spoke up, breaking through it; "I didn't know you were a magus too, Emiya."

He frowned, stepping further from the doorjam. "Y-you either, Tosaka...."

She glared at him, at the uncertainty in his expression; it bothered her, obviously; "Hmph. Don't think this changes anything between us. We're both masters now, Emiya; I'm not going to attack you tonight, but we're enemies after I leave here."

He looked even more confused now; "Enemies? What's going on here, Tosaka? I can't fight you...."

"Then you'll lose!" she growled in agitation, "Don't pretend you don't know what's going on when you just summoned a Servant, damnit! A _Saber_, for God's sake!"

He retreated a little at this, and might've been in for more of the girl's verbal berating if Saber had not stepped in here; "Thank you for your consideration, master of Archer. Please, though, let us part ways; my master and I have much to discuss."

Tosaka, her black miniskirt that matched her hair--it fell in tails on either side, but neither was braided, instead starting from ties that looked almost bow-like--rippling in the wind, gave a cool nod to this, letting some of her anger leave her face. "Hmph. You're welcome; come on, Archer." She started to turn, but stopped, throwing one final glare at Shirou, who hadn't managed to recover enough from her tirade to say anything. "Remember, Emiya, next time we're enemies; you should register with the overseer at the church before tomorrow." Then she was gone, Archer smirking at Saber as he followed her out....

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Again, it was a long moment before master of servant spoke. In fact, the first noise was not words, when it came, but a slight hiss from Saber's helmet after he'd silently sheathed his sword. Then, surprisingly, as he turned, one head reached back... and pulled it off, the figure beneath it shaking his hair out as he faced Shirou fully. The face was pale, but well-formed and... shockingly young, even with the cloth that wasn't yet pulled down from over his mouth. Reaching up to do this as his eyes opened, revealing that both were that same violet, it was obvious that Saber was no older than his master, face yet unmarred by any beard.

Cradling the helmet to his chest, Saber then approached Emiya; "You're lucky, you know. Any other master probably would've tried to kill you tonight and take me. But, you don't know what that means, do you?"

Slowly, Shirou nodded. "I'm... a magus, but not a very good one. I don't... know what's going on. Who are you, and... did you really mean what you said before?"

The man shook his head tiredly; "I was afraid of this. I think we had better save the introductions until I've explained some things to you." The violet eyes strayed to Shirou's home. "And for more appropriate surroundings."

The red-haired boy nodded, "I'm sorry; of course, let's go inside..." And so they did, moving inside to discuss matters that Shirou knew nothing of. It was ironic, then, that Saber asked almost as many questions as he answered.

Still, maybe two hours later, Shirou Emiya had a decent, if slightly warped, idea of what was going on. He looked a bit shocked still, and uneasy, understandably. "Saber, is... fighting in this war really justified?"

By this point, the other male had removed his cape as well, and sat elegantly, with his tall, slim form covered by the violet attire he'd worn beneath. "That depends on how you choose to fight it," he replied; "Defeating a Servant is not truly killing, and so you might say than vanquishing all of us is not unjust. However, if you would choose instead to take the easier route and to kill the masters in order to defeat the Servants... then you must be prepared to be killed yourself." Saber frowned, "I would offer you the chance to quit now, but I'm afraid we're in this together already. Without my protection, Lancer or Archer would kill you."

Shirou nodded, still not entirely convinced. "But, there's still the chance that we'd end up hurting other people, isn't there, Saber?"

The black-haired boy nodded, "Perhaps you should speak to this overseer, if you can't decide."

"You said... you serve justice before, right?" Saber nodded, lifting a brow. "Then, how can you be willing to take the chance so easily?"

The purple-clad young man frowned at this, "Because, it is the route to the least suffering. Winning the Holy Grail War and risking that the masters _might_ be hurt along the way is certainly worth the good a wish could bring about."

Shirou looked a bit dejected at this answer, his green eyes falling to the floor. "Oh. So you won't even try to save everyone?"

"That isn't what I said. Of course I will _try_."

Saber sighed, and both of them fell silent for a long moment. Finally, he spoke again, his voice sounding tired, "Without a master who cares too, though, I have no chance of saving them. You're aware of what the command spells can do, so... the best way to save them is to defeat them each without killing them or hurting anyone else. Together we can do that much, even if you have no wish worth fighting for."

"...alright."

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Half an hour or so later, the two approached a church atop a hill. Saber had changed his outfit, quite aware that the violet stood out; now, he wore a black, double-breasted shirt with gold trim and a high collar. The pants matched it, and the entire ensemble resembled a uniform of some kind, perhaps for a foreign school? He certainly wasn't Japanese, Shirou knew, with those eyes and skin and build. Either way, he was quite confident, and despite calling the red-haired boy his master, he seemed to have no desire to make that anything more than a title, having taken up the lead.

It surprised the young magus, though, to see that he was starting to run out of breath. Saber had performed feats of physical prowess before that made Shirou, who considered himself rather fit, feel slow and weak, yet... he was getting fatigued climbing up a hill? It... didn't quite make sense, but there also wasn't any tactful way to broach the subject, especially now that they were walking toward the church fully. From inside, baroque, daunting organ music issued forth.

Shirou hesitated at this point; something about the church made him uneasy. Maybe it was the one other time he'd been inside it, and what he'd associated with it. Maybe it was the music, or just the ominous feeling in the air. Staring at the white building, with a graveyard around it, Shirou didn't want to go in. He didn't want to move any closer. He wanted to turn around and leave, yet... Saber was still walking toward it. Or had been. Seeing Shirou stop, he turned, face amiable; if he hadn't seen the night's events, then he might've thought that the violet-eyed boy was just another student. Knowing what he did, the smile looked empty, almost mocking. Saber was not a happy person. "Come on, Shirou."

Still, he couldn't really not. There was a reluctant nod, and then the red-haired teenager followed his companion up to the door, fidgeting as the taller boy opened the door, then held it. The role he was playing somehow seemed wrong, Shirou decided, as he slipped through the door; Saber looked like he should be the one having the door held for him. But, inside, the atmosphere was twice as heavy, and the taller boy's smile looked even more out-of-place. The organ music was loud, coming from nearby....

And, as his eyes fell upon the one playing it, the young magus froze a bit. She didn't fit the church, not at all, sitting there at the organ bench like an angel ought to look. Body all clad in white, the girl was pale and slight and radiant, her blonde hair spilling down her shoulders and to the middle of her back in waves, shining. From this angle, he couldn't see her face, but there was a definite otherworldly grace to the way she played the organ, not a note faltering, even if she seemed too perfect to be playing such an oppressive tune.

Still, Shirou doubted he'd ever forget seeing the girl there that way, her perfectly white form arrayed in a slip-like dress that left her perfectly slender shoulders and strong yet still slim upper arms bare. Through the great stained glass windows of the church, distorted moonlight played over her form, rendering her even more perfect, like some Goddess, or an angel at least--infinitely more perfect than any other, and far beyond the reach of any mere mortal.

But, this beautiful first impression didn't last--it couldn't, when there was another person present, taller than even Saber. Standing at the head of the church, upon the alter that the girl sat at her colossal organ--just behind her, in fact--was a man, not so slender as Saber but not wide, either, and he had noticed the door. But, he didn't turn immediately, clad in a long purple coat as he stood there, with black showing beneath it and his hair brown and to his neck. There was something unsettling about him, and, as the girl finished her organ piece, he turned, a benevolent smile upon his face...

A smile that made Shirou sick. It was like Saber's smile, only a thousand times worse, not even pretending to touch the brown eyes. And yet, he was obviously the priest; if the position he stood in was not proof enough, the cross he wore upon his neck was. But a priest should not have looked as this one did, or made the room feel so suffocated even with the music gone.

Regardless, after those eyes had taken in the young magus, they shifted to Saber, and here something strange passed through them, some combination of shock and almost recognition, and then a touch of interest. Shirou looked to Saber and caught the end of a similar look, frowning to himself at it. That was not encouraging... But, the priest now spoke, his tone one of interest, though it seemed as though it was normally as false as the smile, "Ah, you've arrived just in time to hear the end of Lily's performance. But, that's fitting, I'd say; haven't you come here to start a performance of your own?"

"Ah... N-not really," Shirou forced himself to reply, feeling as though... he needed to take the lead in something, instead of letting Saber do all of it. He was starting to feel a little like baggage, "She's very good, but... we're here about the grail war."

The man's smile widened, and he chuckled--it was a rather disconcerting sound--after throwing the girl, who hadn't turned from her organ, a glance, "Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak in riddles--certainly, you've come to the right place for that. I am Kirei Kotomine, the mediator for this war.... You're the last Master to register, you know."

He nodded slowly, "I... wasn't really planning to join."

"I see. Well, should you decide you made the wrong decision, you may always come to the church for shelter; However, if you are intent upon entering, I will need your name and your Servant class."

"Alright; I... am going to enter. It's the only way to stop needless destruction, isn't it? Shirou Emiya, and... he's Saber."

At this, Kirei's brows lifted twice, obviously interested, but he only said to the first, "Emiya... I see." Something was obviously familiar to him about the name, but that wasn't surprising, Shirou told himself. His father had come from a distinguished line of magi. So, it was more the other part that drew his attention, "Saber? How unusual; I'm afraid... that someone has already registered with a Saber, Shirou."

Saber himself frowned at this, stepping forward as a click of his fingers summoned his helmet to his hand, and he donned it, causing the entire cape ensemble to return in a soft flash. With his voice now resonant again, and deeper, with a slight edge, he answered the priest, "I assure you, I am Saber."

Kirei lifted a brow, then smiled again, as though having divined some secret; "I see. Well, I cannot well cast doubt upon that.... I shall register you, then, regardless; it appears we will not have a Caster in this war." Despite his words, there was something knowing about that smile, something that said he knew more than he was telling.

"Thank you," Saber replied, and then he fell silent, his hand removing the helmet and causing his attire to revert.

"Well, it seems all the Masters have been selected," replied the priest, not bothering to answer the thanks. "The Fifth Holy Grail War has officially begun. I wish you the best, Shirou Emiya, and do remember that you may find sanctuary here, if things go amiss for you and you fear for your life."

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~Author's Note~

Well, here goes nothing. I don't write fanfiction much anymore, but this idea hit my the other day and wouldn't let go. In any case, I hope I didn't set up too much mystery too early... But, if nothing else, I'm writing this story from the Fate side entirely, so fear not those of you who do not recognize my Saber--he is a crossover character, but will be treated in-story as though he belonged to the Fateverse, and his origins and stories and contradictions explained in-story as such. Either way, though... reviews would be _extremely_ nice, since I'm not sure myself if it's worth continuing. If you think so (or not), please, tell me, as well as what you liked or didn't like about it.


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